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Mark David Gerson

Acts of Surrender

Synopsis

Mark David Gerson never wanted to be a writer, never believed in a world beyond that of his five senses. But when life began to chip away at his sense of self with a relentlessness that he couldn't ignore, he found himself launched on a spiritual journey that would redefine everything about him -- multiple times. It was a journey of surrender that ultimately birthed a timeless fantasy trilogy...and a new life he could never have imagined. ••• Also available on Google Play

Author Biography

Award-winning author of more than a dozen books whose readers span the globe, Mark David Gerson electrifies groups and individuals around the world with his inspiring stories and motivational workshops, seminars, talks and retreats.

Mark David's books include critically acclaimed personal development and self-help titles, compelling memoirs and spellbinding fiction. In addition, Mark David’s books for writers are considered classics in the field and his screenplay adaptations of his Q’ntana fantasy novels are on their way to theaters as a trio of epic feature films.

As a personal growth coach and creativity catalyst and mentor, Mark David works with an international roster of clients to help them foster their intuition, connect with their inner wisdom, express their innate creativity and live more passion- and purpose-filled lives.

Having overcome his own personal and creative blocks and challenges, Mark David is uniquely qualified to motivate and inspire individuals in all walks of life and from all backgrounds to unleash the power of their potential.

www.markdavidgerson.com

Look for Mark David's books at all major online booksellers and on his website.

Author Insight

My Father the Ghost

Few of the stories I share about my father in Acts of Surrender are flattering. Physically and emotionally absent in my early childhood and dead before my 14th birthday, Sydney Gerson was not the kind of parental figure one thinks of as, well, much of a parental figure. On top of that, he was probably not my natural father, something I learned long after all the principals in that drama had passed away (another story I tell in Acts of Surrender). And yet I carry his name, and of the three fathers I have experienced in my life, he is the only one I ever think of as "Daddy."

Book Excerpt

Acts of Surrender

I felt another presence in the room. I opened my eyes and peered through the clouds of steam. I saw no one.

“Hello?”

No answer.

I closed my eyes again. Immediately, I sensed a white-robed man staring at me from across the room. He was tall, dark-haired, with a trim beard and mustache and a muscular build. A gold coronet rested on his head.

“Who are you?” I asked silently.

“My name is Arctur,” I sensed rather than heard.

“Right,” I thought dismissively. My mind is still focused on Bodie and his Arcturian stories. It’s playing tricks on me.

“This is no trick. I am Arctur,” he repeated.

Once again, I was channeling. I don’t know how long we conversed. Time had no meaning among the mystical swirls of steam.

“If Bodie’s from Arcturus,” I challenged, “where am I from?”

“Not that it matters,” he replied, “but you’re from Sirius...and stop being so serious.”

I was too serious, too much of the time.

“There is someone here who wants to speak with you,” Arctur said a few moments later.

I waited.

“Because this is so close to the anniversary of your father’s death...” Suddenly I sensed my father’s presence, Sydney’s presence. My heart started to race.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the father you wanted me to be,” my father said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you in all the ways you deserved.”

I began to sob.

“But I loved you and I still love you,” he continued. “And I’m so proud of what you’re doing and what you’re becoming. I couldn’t be a role model for you, but you’re now a role model for me. I’m watching you. I’m with you. I’m learning from you. Thank you.”

Moments later, I sensed that Sydney and Arctur had left. I was alone, still crying. I opened my eyes. The steam room was empty. I wiped my face, collected myself and returned to my room.

How close to the anniversary is it? I fired up my laptop and opened my file of significant dates.

As close as it could be. My father had died twenty-nine years earlier — on that day.